


Red Queen: Checkmate

by slightly_murderous_sorcerer (emerald_witch_esmeralda)



Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Fem!Louis, Femslash, Frenemies, Genderswap, Lady Loving Lady Royals, bisexual ladies, fem!william, genderswap AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-08-28
Packaged: 2020-09-28 09:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20423969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emerald_witch_esmeralda/pseuds/slightly_murderous_sorcerer
Summary: As her old enemy lay dying, Queen Louise XIV should be rejoicing. But instead...she is doing the exact opposite. She's wanted her gone before they even met, and now that it may be so...she can't bear the thought of letting her leave. At least, not without saying goodbye.





	Red Queen: Checkmate

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry guys, shitty title because I couldn't think of any good titles. But I had a MIGHTY need for genderbent Wouis and all the fun dynamics that can be explored with them. So...here it is. I just thought of chess and Alice in Wonderland. Louis would definitely be the Red Queen in my opinion and William would be the White, based off their show (and kinda real life) personas. I may make a series out of this, but it's just a oneshot for now.

Wilhelmine was never one for theatrics, she liked to get straight to the point. And besides, theatrics didn’t have any place on the battlefield, nor did they when trying to woo a winsome lad or lass. Normally she would appreciate the rest, as resting was such a rare luxury when one was at war. Now the bed that sometimes had brought her such comfort was seeming a prison, and the battle-medics that surrounded her like a swarm of wasps were her jailers. Her soldiers were out there fighting and dying for their own freedom and the glory of their Stadtholder, she should be among them. Her eyes seemed to blur in and out of focus when one medic came to her with a potion of foul-smelling stuff. “Drink, my lady. It’ll help with the pain.”  
“Off me.” Wilhelmine barked, shoving the medic back with surprising strength. “Off of me, all of you! Damn curs, leave me be!”  
“But Stadtholder...”  
“I’ll be fine! It isn’t the first time I’ve been shot, I’ll heal. I just need to be left alone!” With obviously great reluctance, they did so and Wilhelmine tried to make herself as comfortable as possible but she was only restricted to shallow breaths due to the hot lead inside of her. “After a while, you think you’d get used to such things. But no, being shot the hundredth time hurts just as much as being shot the first. At least I managed to wound the French tiger.” She croaked.  
Louise...the woman that had haunted Wilhelmine’s waking and sleeping moments before they’d even ever laid eyes on each other, the woman that she’d been determined to knock off that high horse that she’d pranced around on so elegantly, and a jolt of unparalleled joy filled the Dutchwoman when she’d succeeded at just that. Louise was clearly not suited for war as much as she loved to wage it. She was too indirect, too fragile. Well, she guessed that she couldn’t be too fragile as the Queen of France was clearly used to navigating the slippery world of politics with all the grace she lacked with a rapier in her hand. Wilhelmine was more of an iron sword and bullet kind of girl, Louise favored the iron fist sheathed in the velvet glove. A mistress of the long game, Wilhelmine had it right on the money when she said that she invented the art of deceit and subterfuge...but boy did she know how to wield those weapons well. Meeting her in the convent, the Dutchwoman actually had quite a bit of fun sparring with her. Them duking it out with words energized her almost as much as killing French on the front, and Louise was able to match her easily. An enemy, but an engaging one...Wilhelmine couldn’t help but be drawn to her. But you know what they say, every rose has its thorns and they pricked each other until they bled. Caught each other wrong-footed, and over those three days spent in that convent as well as the surrounding village, it soon became clear that the bond of enemies was just as intimate as any other bond, if not more so. They enjoyed challenging each other, the thrill of being with your absolute equal, your match in every way, that much was evident and surprisingly their debates were the highlight of their days. Instead of the expected misalignment, they were in perfect sync and they actively began to seek out each other’s company, taking every little chance they could to disagree over something just to see how the other would react. They knew intimate secrets about each other due to their spies, and while that made excellent ammunition, it also gave them something to bond over. They told each other their stories, things they’d never tell anyone else because damn it, you already know anyway. And I might gain some material to hit you with later. A battle every step of the way, some days it would be heated barbs and other days it would be semi-playful teasing. They were tied together nearly from Wilhelmine’s birth, even miles apart and even more so now that they were together. Eventually they took their battle to another front (or in Louise’s case, on her back) after a few too many glasses of wine, even that was a battle, but a battle that both had won and lost simultaneously...a happy stalemate as it were. Wilhelmine couldn’t help but allow herself a wistful smirk at the memory. These were untested waters for the French Queen, that much was certain and Wilhelmine was more than happy to captain the ship. Of course Louise protested, that being their way. Wilhelmine relished in it, as a rough sea only made for a more skillful sailor but after breaching her defenses, the sailing was much smoother for the both of them from then on out...not entirely of course, it’d be boring if that were so but it was smooth enough. A new line was drawn in the sand, knowing that the other would simply cross over it. Now the Dutchwoman hoped that Louise would cross that line again...she was never afraid of death on the battlefield. In fact, part of her looked forward to it. But after their last...meeting, the more time they spent together, she feared dying. She feared dying without seeing Louise one last time, without telling her what she had always longed to say but neither of them could get out, not wanting to show weakness even in their must vulnerable of moments.  


  


  


  
“My Queen...I have happy news! The Stadtholder has been wounded in battle!” A messenger in an inconspicuous outfit, one of Louise’s spies entered the Queen’s lavish tent in the middle of the French camp. Louise raised a perfect eyebrow at the man. “What did you say?”  
“Wilhelmine van Oranje took a bullet to the side! They say she was hit and knocked off her horse...her physicians despair. Her condition worsens, if she doesn’t survive the night, the war will be ours!” Louise was staring straight at the man but her mind had stopped registering what he had said a long time ago. A shard of ice seemed to plummet into her stomach when she processed the words over and over in her mind. _Wilhelmine is hurt...she could **die**._  
“Majesty?” Louise was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts by the messenger’s voice, looking through him rather than at him. “Leave me. Now.” As soon as the man was gone, Louise fell back into her chair, hands over her face. “This is just like this bitch...to go and get herself shot.” Once upon a time, she would’ve rejoiced at the idea of her hated enemy being ripped out of the world, but over the weeks she had been at war...the thought was absolutely hateful to her. It made her sick, it was probably partly some sick co-dependence. Wilhelmine had been a part of her life so long, before they even met in person that the thought of life without her, a _world_ without her felt strangely...empty. But when the two actually met face to face, there was no denying their connection. Two female monarchs in a world that was violently opposed to the idea, both of them too stubborn to back down. They were both sharp, they had to be in order to survive: they had cut each other with the steel of their tongues as well as their swords. Louise absolutely hated it because her skin and ego had never been marred in her life, she usually left such pursuits to her warrior sister who shone on the battlefield. So much so in fact, that Louise’s bruised pride dragged her out of her element and into a completely foreign one, although she would admit that it wasn’t the only reason she came. She’d never admit it to anyone, especially not Wilhelmine or Philippine, but she _had_ come here to escape the hell of Versailles. And here comes this firecracker woman, battle-hardened both in the boardroom and the battlefield who she immediately got tangled with in a dance of wills, neither of them wishing to quit. That thread that had always bound them, it grew stronger and stronger even as they’d both pushed against it. Strengthening in fire and blood, mud and water, words and scars until they pushed against each other one too many times and a little bit too closely. _And then I pushed up your skirts._ Wilhelmine said with that annoyingly smug wink of hers across the negotiation table that day. The same look of superiority that Louise often wore, and her sister’s words of her loving to stare into the mirror until she dislikes the reflection came unbidden in her mind. At first Louise had outright been offended, she had never been with a woman, that was her sister’s thing and not hers!  
“So is war.” Wilhelmine had said, calm as a sunny day, “and you’re trying your hand at that. Why not this? Are you content to let your sister outshine you in this endeavor?”  
“She can have this! What can a woman really do for me? I mean...what can they truly do for each other in that department?” Louise pursed her lips when she heard Wilhelmine’s laugh, like ringing bells across the table. Mocking her, goading her into a challenge. Her smile was feral, all teeth.  
“Come on, Majesty, I assumed you were smarter than that...don’t tell me you’ve bought into the lie that you need a cock to be fucked. I don’t hate cocks... I actually quite like them. Not as much as you, but I digress.” Louise snorted and Wilhelmine continued. “But the majority of the time, I prefer the fairer sex. I mean your sister must be doing this for a reason?”  
“Philippine has always been a creature of peculiarity, I don’t make it my place to attempt to decipher her mind.”  
“I’d like to decipher _your_ mind. Crack the Louise code, as it were.”  
“Well good luck, because it’s not gonna happen. Women are puzzles, are we not? Isn’t that what men say about us? I’m far more complex than that.”  
“Oh yes, the goddess of the sun is far beyond my pitiful mortal ken.” Wilhelmine said flatly, dark eyes boring into her soul. “I’m glad you recognize it.” Louise said imperiously, trying to ignore the feeling that stirred in her at the Dutchwoman’s look. “We’re all grown women here, Louise. You’re telling me you’ve never touched yourself?”  
“What kind of question is that?!”  
“I’d be more than willing to answer...if you aren’t scared to find out.”  
“I’m not scared of anything!”  
“Prove it then.”  
Louise smiled to herself a little bit at the memory, the taunt had been unbelievably childish and she supposed that she was unbelievably childish herself for allowing herself to be baited by it...but she can’t say for all certainty that she regretted it. It was one of those occasions where she was happy that she lost the battle, but next time she’d be fighting to win on this new field of theirs. Things had been a constant battle between them, and now Wilhelmine was fighting for her life. A fight that she very may well lose, and the thought filled Louise with dread. She wasn’t allowed to lose to anyone but her, that had been their promise to each other. “I’m the only one allowed to defeat you...that right is _mine._ I’ve _earned_ that, not even Death will snatch you...it, from me.” she whispered, wrapping her shawl tighter around herself.  


  


  
The faint rustling of skirts were the only thing that could be heard as a cloaked figure made its way across the Dutch camp with the cloak of night covering her nearly as much as her own grey cloak. This was literally enemy territory. The sea of tents, all decorated with orange were near indistinguishable from one another, but blue eyes locked on the large tent in the center, creeping toward it and peeping inside to see that there were indeed a few candles burning. The danger that she was in was not lost on this nighttime visitor, she could very well be killed instantly if she were found out. The hammering in her heart flooded her ears, but the even more imminent danger of Wilhelmine _dying_ of not being able to say goodbye, of never being able to see her again took precedence and urged her forward. After discerning that there was nobody inside except for the one figure on the bed, Louise lifted open the flap and closed it behind her before lifting her hood. The queen could barely contain a gasp...this couldn’t have been Wilhelmine, could it? This wasn’t the fierce, young Dutch lioness who took on bigger, more powerful France to defend her home. This wasn’t the woman who defied De Witt to reclaim her stolen birthright. This wasn’t the woman who had captured Louise’s attention, her ire...and slowly but surely her heart. The one person in the world who could truly equal her in every aspect, whether fighting or fucking (although they only did that a handful of times). This was a woman who was vulnerable, fragile and reeked of mortality. Her dark hair was limp and stringy around her face, her skin was deathly pale...her chest slowly rising up and down and her skin shiny with sweat. Her eyes didn’t even open upon Louise’s arrival and she was far more alert than that.  
“Wilhelmine?” No response, Louise approached the bed and sank to her knees in a puddle of petal-pink silk, trying to ignore the turning in her stomach at the faint but unmistakably metallic smell of blood in the air. “Wilhelmine. Listen here, you upstart heretic bitch. You cannot die...not unless I take you out of the world myself, I forbid it! My life’s goal is to defeat you in battle myself, don’t you _dare_ take that away from me! Are you seriously going to tell me that you of all women are just going to give up?! You have no right to deny me...” Louise would deny it til the end but her voice cracked just so...after a sob escaped her lips, she went from angered hisses to her voice becoming softer but only slightly. “You can’t leave me, Willa. You can’t give up, it’s not your way. You’re made of sterner stuff than this.”  


  
“Encouragements?” The Queen’s eyes were forced down, seeing Wilhelmine’s brown ones staring up at her and open.  
“What is all this sweet-talking nonsense? My Louise certainly doesn’t speak like that, where’s the greedy, impetuous, arrogant bitch I fell for and what have you done with her?”  
Louise had been taking Wilhelmine’s disturbingly cold and pale hand while she lay unconscious on the bed. Now, she was alert but in obvious pain. She smiled, although that was more like a grimace. I told you that you didn’t wish me dead.” The Dutchwoman chuckled weakly though her raspy breathing.  
“What the...was this some play to get my attention?” Louise asked, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t have to go so far, you know.”  
Wilhelmine lifted her shirt, showing the red blooming beneath her tightly-wrapped bandages. “What do you think? And yes Louise, I deliberately got shot in the fucking side just to get you to visit me.” Wilhelmine smiled grimly and Louise snorted out a laugh. “This may be a surprise to you, precious but you’re not that special.”  
“I am to you.” The queen threaded her fingers through the Stadtholder’s hand, and Wilhelmine squeezed back as tightly as she could. “You’re right.” She didn’t know how the hell the younger women got their faces so suddenly close together but Louise whimpered when their lips met, and Wilhelmine chuckled against her lover’s mouth. “We shouldn’t. You’re hurt...you’re on the mend, and your body is weak. They...they told me that you could die."  
“As long as we go carefully, it should be fine...and I’ve got strength enough for this. I’ve missed the feel of you, don’t deny me that now. If this is to be our last night together...let us make it last. Make it count.”  
“I won’t.” Louise kissed her and Wilhelmine threaded her fingers through golden ringlets, whining most endearingly when the Frenchwoman pulled away. “I’ll not be the cause of you getting worse, you’ll have to wait. Our next battle won’t be as fun if one of us is impaired.”  
“Everything between us is a battle.” Wilhelmine pouted. “This battle, battles of words. Battle of wills, I remember when we went to the village outside the convent and I had to battle through those damned layers and layers of skirts and laces and corsets to get you naked.” Wilhelmine said somewhat dryly, but smiled when Louise laughed. “And I’m still attempting to get those grass stains out of my gown, thank you.”  
“I regret nothing. Will this always be us, mijn zonnebloem?”  
Louise kissed the other woman’s forehead, watching Wilhelmine’s eyes flutter closed with a sigh. “Absolutely. But if things were different, would we have nearly as much fun together? Would we have met at all?” Now it was Wilhelmine’s turn to laugh. “Probably not. Do you know what time it is?”  
Louise pulled out her pocketwatch. “Twenty minutes ‘til midnight.” “Good...that means that we have about five hours until my physicians come in and harangue me again.”  
“You have to listen to them, dear. I know you’re a stubborn bitch and that’s hard for you but they’re here to make you better.”  
“You love this stubborn bitch.”  
“That I do. You’re my warrior girl.  
“And you’re my queen. Louise...stay with me?”  
“I can’t...because you know I’ll likely be killed if we’re caught like this. But I will stay with you until it’s time for your physicians to come. That’s the best I can give you right now.”  
“Thank you.”  
“It won’t always be like this. One day we shall rule the world together.” Louise whispered, blinking reddened eyes and Wilhelmine kissed her hand. “I want a full update on your health, because you _must live. Do you understand me?”_  
“Yes, mother.” The sound of giggles filled the tent.  
“Can you tell me a story?”  
“Of course. About what?”  
“How about Versailles? I mean you never shut up about that.”  
Louise rolled her eyes, but with a smile creeping over her face. “There once was a queen who lived in a golden palace, golden like the sun. In fact, it was so beautiful that all of Europe became jealous. Especially the lame Dutch, because they didn’t have a palace anywhere near as nice.”  
“But at least _we_ have good credit.”  
_“Hey!”_


End file.
